


How the Game is Played

by BecauseFanfictionThough



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gotham, Requested, Smut, requested smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 04:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5771968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseFanfictionThough/pseuds/BecauseFanfictionThough
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor has been holding out on you and hogging all the hits for himself. You finally get fed up and approach him about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the Game is Played

You sat cross-legged on Victor’s couch, twirling one of your knives skillfully between two fingers before noticing a smudge on the shiny, silver service. You stopped her twirling and begin to polish the blade on your shirt, that’s when the front door finally opened. The black suit he wore contrast against this pale skin, and its eyes did as well. They were two brown irises so dark they could have very well been black. And they were always so damn unreadable too.

“Well?” you asked immediately, rising to your feet.

“Nothing for you this time,” he responded with a flat tone and empty stare.

“Seriously Zsasz? Christ, I’m broke and I’m bored as hell. There’s got to be something for me to—“ as you were speaking, Victor hung up his coat and made his way across the room to the ceiling-high, wooden wardrobe beside the kitchen doorway. He had unlocked the wardrobe which had been modified to hold his favorite toys up top, and ammo for each in the bottom. As he reached for a small, simple .45, a fire rose up inside you. “You’ve got a fucking job, don’t you? And you don’t want me to have it! You asshole! And you’re using a forty-five, that means it’s a tiny one! You never use the forty-five on anything too big for me!”

Victor took a deep breath. “_______, I need you to calm down and—“

“Screw you, Zsasz, you’ve been cheating me out of jobs all week. I’m going crazy here! You said I had potential! You said you were moving me in to train me and you’re hardly even doing that!” Victor had made his way across the room and now stood right in front of you. He was calm; he was unreadable. But your next words finally seem to strike a nerve. You said, “Did you just bring me here to screw me? Because I’ll go back to freelancing if so. If I’m just a little play thing for you and—“

Victor’s hand suddenly covered your mouth, silencing you. “Shut up.” There was emotion in his voice now. He was pissed. “You shut up, right now. That is not true, and I swear if you—“

One hand still holding your knife, you used your free hand to grab the wrist of the hand covering your mouth while simultaneously swiping Zsasz’s legs from underneath him. He didn’t see it coming. The shock on his face when he hit the ground with evidence. But the look melted into a smirk as you placed your knee on his chest and the knife to his throat. He tossed the unloaded ..45 he was still holding across the floor and chuckled.

“What? You going to slit my throat?” Again, he laughed. “Careful, sweetheart, I might like it.”

“Cut the shit, Zsasz. I want the job.”

“That’s a really low cut shirt,” was Zsasz’s response and you realized his gaze had fallen down to your breasts, your cleavage ready to spill out of the v-neck as you leaned forwards.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Removing your knee from his chest and your knife from his throat, you settled for straddling his hips to keep him from simply walk away from you.

“Just tell me why you won’t let me do anything,” you pleaded.

Zsasz propped himself up on one elbow. His other arm stretched forward so he could trace the curve of your hip with his fingertips.

“I’ll tell you what,” Zsasz said, his smirk never faltering. “Let’s play a game.” With that he hooked his arm around your middle, rolling the two of you over so he lay on top of you, one of his thighs pressed between the two of yours as he began to grind, ever so slightly, against you. “We’ll have a little…fun to calm you down. Last one to cum gets to do the hit.”

Your mouth opened to tell him off but before you could make a sound Victor’s mouth was on your neck, giving a firm bite and then sucking at the flesh while one of those hands slipped underneath your shirt, and then under your bra, to tease your nipple. Instead of the insult you had intended, a moan slipped past your lips, drawing another laugh from Victor.

“Come on, babe,” he said. “You’re gonna make this too easy.”

With a firm shove, you got Victor off of you so you could climb to your feet and strip down to your bra and lace panties. Victor stood as well, taking off his suit jacket and about. You reach forward, grabbing onto the front of loops of his pants and using them to guide him to the couch. If this was going to get you that hit, you’d play along. Besides, the assault on your neck had left your panties getting damp.

He sat and you straddled his lap, kissing him as you undid his pants pushing them down along with his boxers just enough to give you access to his already-hard cock. Your lips still pressed together, you pushed aside your panties and guided his cock to your entrance. You slid down it slowly at first, gasping as you adjusted to the size, just like you had to do every time. Zsasz’s mouth hung slightly open as he watched you lustfully begin to grind your hips in a slow circle. After a few seconds, when you were ready, you started to move yourself up and down. Hands locked on Victor’s shoulders and his on your hips, you rode him as fast as your legs would let you, occasionally tensing your muscles so he could feel you squeezing the hard member inside of you. His jaw would lock up every time you did it and his fingers would dig into you a little harder. It was all over. 

You totally had him beat.

Or so you thought.

Suddenly, Victor used his firm grip on your hips to lift you off of him. Before you could stop him, you were on your knees, bent over the back of the couch with him yanking your panties down to your knees and pulling off his pants and boxers. A hand suddenly smacked down on your ass, making you squeal and jump. Victor’s hand rubbed your ass as he got down on his knees on the floor, leaning forward and slipping his tongue between your folds. He lapped at the juices dripping from your most private place before standing up and entering you from behind.

“Fuck,” you hissed, this new angle forcing you to have to get used to his size inside of you all over again. You could literally hear how wet he had made you as he thrust into you mercilessly. You tried to focus on other things and suppress that all-too familiar feeling of an impending orgasm.

“I feel it, Sweetie, you’re getting close, huh?” Victor panted.

“No,” you lied through clenched teeth, your nails clawing at the sofa.

Victor simply laughed and then reached a hand underneath you, his fingers knowing right where to find your clit.

“Oh god!” you cried out as he started to rub you, his thrusts never slowing.  
It was too much, and you couldn’t take it. You could feel your juices starting to drip down your thighs as he fucked you all the way through your orgasm. It felt so good you were practically screaming his name, your body shaking and quivering as you forced his hand away from your clit because you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck. ______!” Victor groaned as his own orgasm overcame him, and his cock began to twitch inside of you. His thrusts slowed to a stop and he slipped out of you. Pulling you down to cuddle against him on the couch. He kissed the top of your head, a very rare and unbelievably tender gesture from someone like Victor.  
You were too drained to be angry. Just disappointed.

“I just don’t get why you won’t give me any jobs,” you said softly, your head resting on his chest.

Victor sighed heavily and was silent for a few long moments. “Honestly?” he asked, and you nodded. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“People get hurt, Zsasz, it’s just how the game is played.”

“I know that, ______. And I don’t want you in the game, because I don’t...“

“Don’t what?”

“I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you, okay?” The words were sweet but his tone was angry. You’d pushed past where he was comfortable going and he climbed off of the couch, putting his boxers back on.  
You stood as well, grabbing onto his arm so he would face you, and you looked at him sternly.

“That’s selfish, Zsasz. You don’t get to baby me. We’re in this together. You think I don’t get sick to my stomach thinking about you slipping up and getting shot in the face? Because I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop you from doing what you love.

Victor stared at you for a long time before pulling away, and crossing to his jacket that was hanging next to the door. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to you.

“There’s a new bar in town taking Penguins’ clientele. He needs the owner taken out.”

You grinned as you tore open the envelope to read the details. “Finally, thank you!” Stony faced, Victor nodded and headed towards the kitchen, pausing when you called, “Oh, and Zsasz!” He looked back at you over his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

You could have sworn you saw him starting to smile before he looked away and silently left the room.


End file.
